


Hyung

by heckhansol



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age-Power Switch, Consensual non-con, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckhansol/pseuds/heckhansol
Summary: Soonyoung has one little shit of a lover who's always trying new things on him. Soonyoung won't admit that he loves it.Because my sister and I gave each member of Seventeen a kink and then paired them based on the kink. Chan was con non-con and Soonyoung was sensory deprivation, and they fit so well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is a non-con fic, but the actions are 100% planned and agreed upon by both parties. Do not read if this will cause problems/triggers.
> 
> For: bylucyy

He wakes more slowly than he’s ever woken before. It takes a long time for Soonyoung to pull himself out of the depth of the tiredness he felt. Deep breaths, shallow movements. Typically he doesn’t sleep this well on his back, but apparently he really needed it.

            He slowly blinks his eyes open, still foggy from sleep. Not that he can see anyway—the room is pitch black. And also eerily quiet. Maybe the power went out.

            Christ, he’s drowsy. There’s a muddiness in his head that still hasn’t slipped away upon his awakening. He feels light, like he’s floating. Except…he knows he must be on his bed, right? But it’s so _hard_. It’s like he’s lying on a rock. A rock with a carpet on it. A carpet that seems to feel a lot like the one in their living room.

            He’s awake now, and the gears begin to turn in his groggy brain. His eyes are very well open, but he sees nothing but black. And now that he can sense, he feels the cloth tickling his cheeks, catching at his eyelashes. He also feels the cloth around his wrists, digging into his skin, and he knows that he won’t be able to get it off no matter how hard he tries. Over the months the knots that get tied around him have become tighter and tighter, as the knotter becomes more and more skilled. There’s no use in struggling. Besides, he doesn’t want to.

            He wiggles his head, hears a soft clunk. Yes—the headphones are on. He bought them as a gift, so they could be used on him. It was something the other had expressed an interest in for a while, and he thought maybe they’d give it a try. He didn’t think it would be this soon, but he supposes his other was eager. He always is.

            Soonyoung lifts his head and the headphones are heavy. Expensive ones, these. Meant to block out any and all sound. They do their job.

            Okay. So he’s tied by the wrists, he can’t see, and he can’t hear. He wriggles on his back again and yes, he’s pretty sure he’s on the living room carpet. He’s also pretty sure that his heightened sense of touch isn’t just from the sensory deprivation—he’s half naked, just in his underwear, he thinks. A little feeling around with his fingers tells him that’s correct. Lovely.

            A game, then. Of course—he always wants to play games, his younger half. Soonyoung never complains.

            How close is the coffee table? He needs to get up and try to make his way to the bedroom where no doubt the other is waiting for him. He reaches his arms out, sweeping them around his body. He doesn’t connect with anything, so he rolls himself over and gets up on his knees. He does another, wider sweep—probably looking like an idiot with both his arms straight out—and he brushes the edge of the sofa. He stands up, stumbles a little since half his balance system is smothered, and thinks he has himself oriented. The hallway should be just off to the—

            Wait a minute.

            “God damn it.”

            He can’t hear himself speak save for the muffled hum that seems to come from inside his head. He must have been drugged or something. _That’s_ why he was so foggy. No way he would have just fallen asleep and been carried out here. No fucking way. He drugged him. That little shit.

            Soonyoung tugs at his wrist restraints out of frustration, to no avail. Of course they don’t budge. The little shit has gotten damn good at this. Soonyoung huffs a breath and inches forward until he’s at the edge of the carpet. The hallway should be just off to the left, and then it shouldn’t be more than twenty steps before he’s at the bedroom door.

            He wonders if he’s watching right now—standing in the doorway; standing right behind him. Soonyoung has no idea. He wouldn’t be surprised if the kid was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arms crossed, smirk playing across his lips as he watches his hyung struggle to orient himself in space having lost two of his senses.

            “Laugh all you want,” Soonyoung calls out loud. “You know I’m just as good at this as you are.”

            Bluff or not? He just wishes they had a smaller apartment. He steps forward to go to the hallway, almost immediately connecting his shin with the coffee table. He swears, clenching his jaw. Okay, so maybe he isn’t oriented properly. Well how is he supposed to face the right way if he can’t fucking _see_? He turns left what he thinks is about forty-five degrees, imagining being laughed at from across the room, not that he could hear it if he was. He slides his foot across the floor in front of him, testing the waters. Seems clear. He starts walking slowly again, and he makes it onto the hardwood. How far is it from the seating area to the hallway? Fifteen steps? Thirty? Why has he never paid attention to this before?

            Because he’s never been drugged and put in the living room alone and almost naked and without sight and sound before, that’s why. He huffs again and keeps taking small, slow steps.

            At one point, Soonyoung thinks he can feel him just beside him. Was that a breath on his neck? Or the heating coming on? He’d know if he could hear. He keeps shuffling.

            And then—there’s the wall. He thumps against it, wondering why the hell he doesn’t just put his hands out, tied or not. If he’s being watched then he is most certainly being laughed at. His bluff from earlier was likely called immediately. He’s not scared by any means—he did in fact discuss this before and agree to it wholeheartedly—but it’s not like he knows what he’s doing.

            He puts his fingertips to the wall, cloth digging further, itchy, into his wrists. He thinks he overshot the hallway to the right. He shuffles left, catching the corner of the wall. Good.

            Okay. Was it twenty steps? Something like that. But he’s a little less of an idiot now, and he keeps his hands on the wall as he walks sideways.

            A few steps in, he knocks something with his fingers and, realizing what it is just a moment soon enough, catches it before it falls to the ground. It’s a picture of them—their favorite one—that they took together with an old Polaroid Soonyoung bought once, made bigger in the printing office. In his mind he can see himself resting his head on the other’s shoulder, arm held out with the camera, grinning, and eyes squeezed shut to be cute as they sit on the floor together, snacks strewn around them. Soonyoung smiles as he does his best to straighten the frame without actually being able to see it. When he thinks he has it, or won’t bother trying any harder, he keeps going.

            Maybe ten more steps and his fingers brush doorframe. He straightens, realizing he had been hunched in some form of trying not to hit anything. He shakes his head at himself and walks through the doorway into the bedroom, placing his hands obediently in front of him.

            Hah. He fucking made it. Now where’s his prize?

            He can’t hear it or see it, but he can feel the air pressure in the room change as the door is shut behind him. There he is. Soonyoung calls out, “Chan?"

            No answer of any kind—well, if there was he wouldn’t hear it. But Soonyoung knows now. He can definitely feel the younger’s presence, circling him, staring at him.

            “You drugged me,” he says.

            Is that a smile he feels?

            “You drugged me and tied me up and blindfolded me and deafened me and left me half naked to find my way here. And now you won’t even—”

            Hands snake behind him from his hips forward towards his belly button. The arms wrap around him and he feels a bare chest press against his back.

            He shivers, pulling his restraints again. “Chan…”

            One of the muffs comes away from his ear, and the sounds are deafening: the appliances running, his own pulse in his head, and the heavy breath before the whisper in his ear that says, “Good job, hyung. Nice save on our photo, by the way. I’ll admit, even though you did fumble around I thought it would take just a little longer.”

            “Chan.” His own voice seems so loud suddenly. He lowers it a little. “Chan, I can’t believe you. Get these ties off me.”

            Chan tisks in his ear before pulling the headphones off entirely. He plays with the soft skin of Soonyoung’s pale lower belly as he puts his lips right up against his ear and says hotly, “We’re going to try something a little different today, hyung. Isn’t that right?”

            Soonyoung would turn around and glare at Chan if he could see anything. As it is, he turns in Chan’s grip to face him. “I’ve finished your task, haven’t I?”

            “Mmm…” Chan hums and gets close to Soonyoung’s face. “Did you like it?”

            Did he like it? No, he didn’t fucking…

            But, no. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. He’s always liked a little bit of fun, and Chan loves to give it. He’s been blindfolded before, tied before—Chan’s been practicing, remember? But that was when they were already on the bed, when Soonyoung didn’t have to worry about doing anything on his own. But now his disobedient little dongsaeng decided to take matters into his own hands, and Soonyoung has to admit that, even though he couldn’t hear and still can’t see and can’t use his hands or anything like that, he still finds himself quite turned on, already hardening in his underwear with the feeling of Chan’s fingers playing with his skin, the knowledge that Chan is already naked.

            He won’t admit it so easily though. “You could have warned me, Chan.”

            Chan laughs lowly. It sends more blood south in Soonyoung’s body. “That would have ruined the fun, yeah?” Chan says.

            Soonyoung feels a quick bite and tug on his lower lip. He shivers again. “What is it you have planned anyway?”

            Chan’s hands go to his chest, pushing him backwards. He stumbles, and when his knees hit the bed he sits down. He looks up as if he can see his young lover through the blindfold. “Can we take these off?” He shakes his hair and raises his hands to indicate the ties.

            “Aw,” Chan says, holding Soonyoung’s chin gently in his fingers and then patting his cheek softly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, hyung?”

            Soonyoung flushes red. He hears Chan walking elsewhere in the room and follows the sound. “Yah. Don’t touch your hyung that way. You should respect me.”

            It’s like he can feel Chan rolling his eyes.

            “At least I still call you hyung, _hyung_. Get up and lie back.”

            Soonyoung doesn’t move. Not because he’s upset, but because he’s decided he’s going to tease back. “Oh, are you ordering me now?”

            Chan opens a drawer for something. Soonyoung’s mouth curls up a little at the corner. Always ready, his Chan.

            Chan comes back to stand in front of him. “Uh huh. Lie back, hyung.”

            Soonyoung grins up in his direction. “Maybe I will if you take this blindfold—”

            He’s lifted and practically thrown backwards. He lands with an _oomf_ , arms flopping down on his stomach. He feels Chan’s weight join him on the bed then crawl towards his body.

            “Christ, Chan. Since when did you lose your respect? Treating hyung like this will get you punished, you know.”

            “Shut up,” Chan says, and bites Soonyoung’s lip again before beginning open-mouthed kisses.

            Soonyoung allows it for a while before saying, “Don’t think this makes up for it, Channie.” More kisses. He wants to hold his lover, but he can’t. “You’re still getting punished for being a bad dongsaeng.” He wants to look at Chan between kisses, but he can’t see anything but black. “As much as you think you can—”

            Chan growls and grips Soonyoung’s jaw hard. “I said shut up.”

            Soonyoung’s dick twitches at the feeling of Chan’s grip. He licks his lips and says, “Or what, Channie? Because I’m your hyung, remember?” Chan lets go of his jaw and gets off the bed. Soonyoung knows he isn’t leaving, just teasing him to think so. “Oh, don’t go, Channie. Did I upset you? Well maybe you should have been more considerate of how you spoke to me, hmm?” The weight returns to the bed and Soonyoung smiles as he feels Chan lean over him. “That’s right, Channie. Come apologize to hyung. Say you’re—”

            Silence: the squeeze of the headphones over his ears again. Wait. That’s not what he wanted. Fuck, he should have known better. Clearly Chan is getting bolder with his actions towards him. Soonyoung remembers first meeting Chan—the boy’s awkward shy smile and horrible haircut. Not a year has gone by and Chan has grown inches taller, filled out in his stature, sharpened in his features, taken on what seems like years more in maturity, and apparently has now stopped taking shit from the likes of Soonyoung.

            Holy fuck is Soonyoung turned on.

            So this time, he really does shut up, save for a meek, “Channie.”

            Chan pulls one muff off again. His voice is deep and unforgiving. “That’s right, _hyung_. It’s my rules today, and I don’t give one fuck if you’re a few years older than me. I was going to be nice and leave these off so you could hear yourself when you moan for me to stop, when I make you scream until you can’t anymore, but now I think I’ve changed my mind.”

            Soonyoung swallows heavily. “Wait, Chan—” He cuts off. Ohhh… _now_ he remembers. The other part of this they had discussed. How long ago was that? His usually eager Chan had waited a while to give him this opportunity. He knows Chan has been wanting this badly for a while now. And now that he thinks about it, Chan picked the perfect time, combining two in one with the new headphones. Okay. Time to change characters.

            “Chan, wait. Please. I don’t want this.”

            Chan hums again, and Soonyoung can hear his smile. “Not sorry, baby. You had your chance.”

            There it goes—his position of hyung, kicked right out the back door by that one word.

            Soonyoung takes deep breaths, and it almost seems to make him feel the fear he’s trying to project. “Channie, please. I don’t like it. Don’t make me.” Soonyoung feels a palm press between his legs. He bites down on his lip and wriggles on the bed. “Channie, no. No…”

            “Now, are you going to be good for me, Soonyoung?”

            Soonyoung’s eyes squeeze shut behind the blindfold. He shakes his head rapidly, bringing his tied hands up to grope at Chan’s chest, pushing away without real volition. “I said no!”

            Chan squeezes him roughly between his legs. Soonyoung tries hard not to let a moan slip through. Still, he whines and can’t help but move his hips. He says in a breath, “Don’t.”

            The headphones are still off on one side, so he can hear the dark tone of Chan’s voice when he speaks. “Don’t? You don’t want it? Is that why you’re so hard for me then?”

            Soonyoung wonders how exactly he should play this. Weak, or a fighter? Which would Chan like more? He’ll have to test it.

            This time when he pushes Chan he puts force into it. The heels of his hands thump against Chan’s chest and send him backwards a little bit. Soonyoung kicks at Chan’s legs and starts to struggle. “I said stop!” He feels his headphones slip off as he moves. He wonders what that’ll do.

            He hears Chan growl again, and then hands are on his thighs, putting them roughly back in place and being pinned by a pair of knees. The hands grab his wrists and yank them above his head. Soonyoung doesn’t need to be told to keep them there.

            “Don’t fucking move,” Chan says.

            Soonyoung struggles further. “Chan, please! Don’t do this!”

            He’s slapped, once, across his left cheek. Backhanded. He stills, mouth agape, a light stinging on his face. He wishes so badly he could see the look on Chan’s face right now. He thinks he’d probably be scary as hell and _so fucking hot_.

            But anyway. Does this mean Chan wants submissive? He can play a weakling too. He opens his mouth to say something but Chan speaks first.

            “What did I say, baby? My fucking rules. You’re going to take it whether you like it or not.” Chan’s voice gets closer again. He tugs on Soonyoung’s ear with his teeth, and Soonyoung purposefully cringes and pulls away from him a little. Chan breathes out, “And I’m not going easy this time.”

            Soonyoung lets out a trembling breath. “You don’t have to do this.”

            Chan starts kissing his jawline. Soonyoung swallows hard. “But I do,” Chan says. “The way you walk around this house shirtless, put music on and move your body, play with your hair in front of me, all the time. All just to tease me. Come on, baby. You know you’re just begging to be fucked.”

            Soonyoung tilts his head away from Chan’s mouth, only to be followed. “Chan, please.”

            “Just like that,” Chan says. “Always begging, always fucking teasing. Today you’re going to get what you’ve been asking for.” He bites hard on the soft skin of Soonyoung’s neck, making him gasp. “Right, baby?”

            Soonyoung whimpers. “You don’t have to—”

            “ _Right?_ ” He shakes Soonyoung once, roughly.

            Soonyoung starts to make himself cry. Chan’s been practicing knots; Soonyoung’s been practicing tears. He says through a tight throat, “Okay. Okay, fine, Chan. You win. I want it. You’re right.”

            Chan teases again at his hard arousal. Soonyoung gives a breathy moan, making it sound almost like a sob. “That’s right,” Chan says. “Just listen to yourself. You don’t want anything more than me fucking you into oblivion. You’ll be good for me, right baby?”

            Soonyoung bites his lip and scratches at Chan’s chest, feeling the heat of Chan’s breath against his neck. “I-I’ll be good.”

            “You will,” Chan says, placing hot kisses under Soonyoung’s ear. “You’ll let me do whatever I want, won’t you?”

            Soonyoung nods slowly in defeat. “I—yes, Channie. Whatever you want…”

            Chan kisses him gently around his lips, because Soonyoung moves his face away with each one. Chan grips his jaw again and holds him in place. “Open your mouth.”

            Soonyoung’s lips tremble. He hopes the tears he’s managed to get out are slipping out from under the blindfold. He gently parts his lips, and Chan forces a deep kiss.

            Jesus. Soonyoung wants so bad to just wrap his arms around Chan and pull him down against his body. But he physically can’t do that, and it isn’t part of the game anyway. Besides, he also wants to see how Chan will get. He wants to hear more of the things Chan is saying to him in that voice.

            Chan pulls away from his mouth. “Good,” he says, and then lets the headphones remove Soonyoung’s hearing again.

            Soonyoung feels his heart going at a rapid pace. It’s amazing how vulnerable he feels without being able to see or hear, like he’s submerged in thick black water with no way out save for Chan pulling him back up. But Chan doesn’t want that today. Honestly, Soonyoung would rather do without the headphones—he wants to hear the sounds they make, hear the roughness of Chan’s breathing, their skin making contact.

            “Chan, I don’t really want the headphones.”

            Chan’s hands smooth up his torso, and he can’t help but arch into them. He likes the game, but he’s still going to respond to Chan’s touch like he usually would, even if he doesn’t consciously mean to. The hands play at his neck and for a moment Soonyoung wonders if Chan will try that too, but he doesn’t. Not that they probably won’t some other time. Anyway, he still wants the headphones off.

            “Channie, the headph—”

            All at once, he’s flipped over. He lands on his stomach, face buried in the comforter, arms still above his head. Of course the headphones hold tight. Is he shouting now, or is it just the fact that his words seem to reverberate throughout his skull in some demonic hum?

            “Chan.”

            His underwear gets pulled, possibly ripped from his legs. They’re gone so fast he’s not sure exactly what happened, and he can’t hear anything to tell either.

            “Chan!”

            Two slick fingers push all the way into him, fast, without warning. Soonyoung gasps and jerks on the bed. He whines. “Channie, it hurts.” It does hurt, a little bit; nothing Soonyoung isn’t very used to by now. But he still has to play the part, right? “You’re hurting me. Please. Don’t. I said I’ll be good. Don’t hurt me.”

            Chan just yanks Soonyoung to his knees, pushing at the backs of his thighs to open them, and adds a third finger, spreading them out as he pushes and pulls.

            Soonyoung gives a cry and grasps at the sheets as well as he can. Honestly, if his hands were just untied he wouldn’t try to take the blindfold or even the headphones off or anything like that. All he wants is to just touch his lover. Although, that’s not really the objective of this, is it?

            Well, at least he could hold onto something. But he’s completely at Chan’s will.

            Chan’s fingers slide out of him. Soonyoung’s not really ready, but he’s ready. He tenses his back and turns his face over his shoulder. He speaks rapidly, lacing his words with fear. “Wait. Wait, stop. Don’t—”

            He feels the head of Chan’s cock press against his entrance.

            “Waitwaitwait!”

            Chan spears into him all at once. He’s full in a split second. His mouth drops open and his body rocks forward on his elbows. He shouts: “Channie! Stop!”

            Chan doesn’t. He pulls back and thrusts forward hard and quick, fingers digging into Soonyoung’s hips in a death grip. Soonyoung can hear nothing but his own heavy breathing, rattling up from his chest, and his pulse in his ears; can see nothing but the sparks bursting behind his eyes with each thrust and rock of his body; can feel nothing but Chan filling him and—

            Soonyoung shrieks. He thinks himself pretty clever for it—channeling his pleasure from Chan hitting him _just_ right into a part of the game. “ _Chan!_ Please just let me go!”

            Hm. There’s a double meaning in that.

            Chan uses him ruthlessly, pressing marks into his hips with his fingertips. Soonyoung has shockwaves going through his body with how hard and deep Chan is pushing. God, he wishes _so badly_ that he could hear it, could hear Chan’s breathing and the noises he makes in the back of his throat as he works, the movement of the bed underneath them. He feels the headphones wobble with every thrust, but they just wont come off. Damn himself for picking the best pair he could find.

            And then, all at once, he feels himself getting close. His own breath burns in his throat—almost as much as his stomach burns with his approaching the edge. He imagines his voice coming out scratchy: “Chan. Please. Please just…let me…let me—”

            He’s empty. He’s on his back again, arms still above his head. His legs are being pushed apart. His cock throbs. He’s full again. He moans, and can’t hear it. “ _Channie_.”

            The headphones are ripped off. His mouth opens in surprise. “I—Channie?”

            Now he can hear _everything_. Everything he wanted—the bed, their skin, the overwhelming sound of Chan just above him, working, breathing hard.

            He swallows and it’s limestone.

            “Channie—” Christ, his voice _is_ ragged. Fucked into oblivion was right. “Let me go.”

            The sound of Chan’s voice is the most stunning thing he’s heard: deep, breathy, and just as wrecked as his own. And what he says. _God_ what he says:

            “Beg me.”

            Soonyoung can’t help it anymore. He knows what the game calls for but he just can’t hold it in for any longer. He brings his arms forward from above his head and hooks his tied wrists around the back of Chan’s neck, pulling him down. Chan’s breath snakes along his collarbones and he’s still pushing, but Soonyoung knows he isn’t mistaken when he thinks Chan has slowed down just a little bit. Soonyoung does his best to thread his fingers in Chan’s hair since he can’t hold onto him properly, and he says, “Please, baby. I feel you. I feel _everything_.”

            It’s true. The lack of his sight and hearing heightened his sense of touch, and definitely, he thinks, his sense of arousal. Now he’s being hit with an onslaught of feeling along with new sound. The pleasure he feels building all throughout his body is unimaginable.

            “Please _please_ Channie. Let me go. Let me go.”

            And then Chan is kissing him hard and wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping him with his thrusts. Soonyoung gasps the air from Chan’s mouth, and he moans out loudly as his orgasm tidal waves over him immediately.

            His body is shaking, and he feels that Chan’s is too. He tightens his thighs on Chan’s hips and draws small circles in his hair and Chan’s thrusts become shallow as he breaches the edge of his own release. “Let me see you, Chan. Please, baby.” Soonyoung feels a hand on the knot at the back of his head, and the blindfold slips away from his eyes.

            And there he is, staring down at him, brows furrowed up in pleasure, lips self-bitten and swollen, eyes shining into Soonyoung’s.

            “Hey, Channie,” Soonyoung nearly whispers with a smile just as soft as his voice.

            Chan’s eyes close shut tight, his jaw clenches, and his hips stutter before he releases a strangled cry through his teeth, dropping his forehead onto Soonyoung’s shoulder. Soonyoung feels Chan’s lips and teeth grazing his skin, feels Chan releasing into him. He rolls his hips up to meet Chan’s slowing final thrusts, pressing the heels of his hands between Chan’s shoulderblades to hold him close. And he hears, no more than a quiet and shaky breath in his ear, “ _Hyung…_ ”

            Soonyoung smiles and closes his eyes to breathe with his lover.

            When they’re both down, Chan pushes up to his elbows and looks at the mess between them, then into Soonyoung’s face. “Good?” he asks, biting his lip.

            Soonyoung laughs airily. “You could say that.”

            Chan smiles and kisses him quickly. “Awesome.”

            Soonyoung brings his arms back from over Chan’s neck and holds his wrists in front of Chan’s face. He wiggles his fingers and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna take these off before all my fingers lose blood supply?”

            Chan grins and gets up on his knees. Soonyoung sits up too, not caring about the sheets underneath him. He holds his arms out and somehow Chan undoes his intricate knot in all of two pulls. Soonyoung watches the cloth fall to the sheets and shakes his head. “How.”

            Chan smirks and shrugs. “Practice.” Soonyoung frowns and rubs his wrists. “I saw your tears, too,” Chan adds.

            Soonyoung nods. “Mhm. Practice.”

            “It took all my energy not to kiss them away.”

            Soonyoung makes an incredulous face. “That’s a big lie. You loved playing the—you know.”

            Chan shrugs again, a glint in his eyes as he looks off to the side. “Maybe. Why are we so disgusting?”

            Soonyoung shoves him gently. “Hey. It’s not bad if we both agree to it and we did. And obviously we both liked it a lot, yeah?” He tilts his head. “I’m not even going to ask how you knocked me out. Now hand me something to clean up.”

            Chan looks around them. Then he lights up and leans over the edge of the bed, giving Soonyoung a second to admire his amazing young body. Chan returns with the cloth that was the blindfold, placing it in Soonyoung’s hands.

            Soonyoung looks down at it. “Is this irony or just weird?”

            Chan chuckles. “Well, it was that or your underwear, which I thought would be a little weird. Not that they can be used for much else anymore…”

            Soonyoung shoves him again, and they both grin at each other. Soonyoung does his best to clean both of their stomachs, wiping Chan’s skin gently before doing himself, then makes a clean toss into the trash can across the room.

            “Nice,” Chan says.

            Soonyoung brushes his hands, then flops dramatically onto his back, arms splayed out. He stretches, groaning. “God, that feels good on my shoulders.” Chan lies down next to him, gazing up at the ceiling, and Soonyoung turns on his side to look at him. “Sorry about breaking it at the end there,” he says.

            Chan half smiles. “It’s all right. I like when you get all soft.”

            Soonyoung pouts at him. “Do I do it a lot?”

            Chan turns to face him and lifts an eyebrow. “Is that an actual question?”

            Soonyoung scoffs and smacks his chest. Chan just laughs. “Shut up,” Soonyoung says, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms.

            Chan rolls toward him and puts his head on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Ah. You know I like it.”

            Soonyoung hums and pets Chan’s hair. “Yes. But do I like _you_?”

            Chan pushes up to his elbows, mouth dropping open. As it’s Soonyoung’s turn to giggle, he shouts, “Soonyoung!”

            Soonyoung cuts off his laughter and gives Chan a straight look. “That’s hyung to you.”

            Chan rolls his eyes as hard as he physically can. “Oh, riiiight. Well then…” He gets up from the bed and faces away, stretching his arms out. Soonyoung bites his lip, watching the muscles in Chan’s back move under his gorgeous skin. Chan looks over his shoulder and says, “How about that punishment… _hyung_?” And he walks out of the bedroom.

            Soonyoung’s eyes go wide before he scrambles off the bed to follow him.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Tumblr at say-the-name-xvii


End file.
